I look at Gallo and his eyes are wide as saucers. His body shudders slightly and then falls forward. It hits the floor with a nasty thump, but my eyes stay on the hallway, just behind Gallo. Gillian stares at me and her gun is still pointed my way. I don't know where she got it, but as she holds it with both hands a thin column of smoke rises from the barrel.
She lowers the gun and gazes at the wet hole she just ripped in Gallo's back.
-What is it...?! What the hell are you doing?! -shout.
But she remains focused on Gallo...following the path of the bullet.
"Gilli... Sherry... whatever your name is... I'm talking to you!"
"Be careful," she says, pointing to Gallo's lifeless body. Don't step on the blood.
I look at her like she's gone crazy.
-What are you talking about? What the hell happens to you?
She points to the door that leads outside.
"Come on, Oliver, we've got to get out of here...
-Do not move! I yell, giving my
first step towards her. Didn't you hear what Gallo said? It's over, Gillian. Enough of the shit!
Now she is the one who looks at me as if I had gone crazy.
"Wait a minute..." she starts to say. You won't believe that... Don't tell me that you really believed what she was telling you. She was lying, Oliver.
No. Enough of the mind games.
"Tell me who you are," he demanded as I approached her.
"Oliver..."
"Tell me who the hell are you!"
She has enough presence of mind to give off an innocent laugh.
—Don't you understand what she intended... she just wanted to face us, so she could...
"Do I really strike you as such a gullible guy?"
"Oliver, it's not about being gullible or not. Look who you were listening to, the man who wanted to kill us!
As I walk down the hall, her words bounce off me. The instant she uttered my real name I should have bolted in the opposite direction. I made that mistake once. Not again.
"Your name is not Gillian. You're not Duckworth's daughter. And it's obvious you don't give a shit what happens to me. Now tell me who you are!
We are face to face and she tries to touch my arm. I push it away from her with my gun. She stays where she is.
At that moment, her expression changes completely. Her soothing smile... her innocent blue eyes... they fade and disappear. I see a deep wrinkle along the forehead. He shakes his head as if I've made a mistake.
"I'm sorry you think so, Oliver. Just remember that you have chosen it...
He raises the gun and points it directly at my chest.
"Give me those tapes," he tells me coldly.
He didn't answer and I raise my gun and point it at his heart.
She looks at the gun and then checks something in my eyes. I remain unperturbed. She smiles and lets out a shrill, piercing laugh that cuts through me like a razor.
"Please Oliver, even on your worst day you can't be who you're not.
I remain motionless, my finger tense on the trigger.
"Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"
She asks-. Or will you always be Oliver... the boy I've loved the most?
My jaw is slightly off center, but my gun doesn't budge an inch.
"I know your feelings have been hurt, but if it makes you feel any better, it wasn't all an act," she adds, suddenly playing the part of the nice woman. When he moves her hip, everything he knew about her evaporates. The barefoot girl... the reckless free spirit... long gone. Her shoulders no longer seem to hang at the side of her body; now they stand upright and straight, almost armed with spikes. I don't understand how I didn't see it before. But like everything else in my life, I only saw what I wanted to see. I've really had a good time with you," she says, trying to get her sincere tone back.
-Really? Which part was funniest for you, lying to my face or betraying my trust? In fact, I keep forgetting... You are such a strong woman, so realistic, that you must like the simple moments... like sticking a knife in my back.
- Let off steam as much as you want,
Oliver. Everything I said was true. You can still get the hell out of here, but not with the tapes... and certainly not with our money. So why don't you snap back to reality and put that gun away. We both know who the daredevil in your family is, and just because you want to play that part doesn't mean you're going to.
Just like that night on the fishing boat, she hopes to touch my weak spots. Unfortunately for her, that makes me focus even more on Charlie. He's just a few feet from here, alone against DeSanctis. And the only thing keeping me from coming to his aid is Gillian.
I take the safety off the gun.
-Get out of my way.
"Why don't we start with the tapes..."
"I said to get out of my way."
"Not until there's...
"My brother is there, Gillian. I won't ask you again.
The gun is pointed directly at her chest. My finger tightens on the trigger. I thought my hand would shake. But it's not like that.
"Enough of playing the bad guy, Oliver. I mean, do you really think you have the balls to shoot me?
It is a simple question. He's my brother.
"You don't really know me, do you?" I ask him. Without waiting for his response, I lower his arm, point the gun at his knee, and pull the trigger.
The pistol fires with a luminous glow and a high-pitched whine. But instead of screaming in pain or falling to the ground, Gillian remains in the same place with a smirk on her face. Puzzled, I look at the gun, which is only inches from her knee. I pull the trigger again. The gun fires with a violent crack; and again Gillian stands unharmed in front of me. I don't understand.
"Have you never heard of blanks?" Gillian gloats. They sound and smell like real bullets, but when you hold the gun to your head, the worst that can happen is you'll singe your sideburns.
Blank bullets? My eyes dissect the gun, then return to Gillian's smirk.
"Honestly, I'm amazed it took you this long," she adds.
It does not make any sense. All this time... The gun isn't even ours, we got it from Gallo in New York, right after he shot... my God.
To my left, a brand new shadow slips through the open door of the warehouse. When Gallo said he had help, I always assumed it was Lapidus or Quincy. But never that it was him. I turn when he walks in. Just looking at him is like a meat cleaver in my stomach.
-What's up, man? Shep asks with his boxer's smile. It seems that you have seen a ghost.